Mama Tried
by Wicked R
Summary: Frigga is hellbent on getting her Loki back, no matter what. Post TA, one of those prison fics, written dozen times over, yet different.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Mama Tried

Disclaimers: Purely for fun only. Genre: hurt/comfort you glorious! Traditional sickfic, in the way I usually write it! ;)

Rating: T but with adult themes.

Summary/Set: Frigga will get her Loki back, no matter what. Post TA, one of those prison fics, written dozen times over, yet different.

Pairing: Surprise!

Note: The title is a reference to Merle Haggard's song,"Mama Tried" that expresses the feelings of its guilt-ridden relator, a rebel child, who ignores his mother's pleas and ends up in prison serving "life without parole." The respect the jailed man gives his mother comes across in the lines and offers hope for redemption in the dreariest of circumstances.

Frigga didn't know how much torture it was exactly for Loki to sit not just physically confined into a small area he could cross with four-five wide steps, but with his powers largely restricted and crippled by the forcefield as well. What she did know for sure, was that the anguish she herself felt when seeing him detained, depressed, miserable and discarded could not be too far from how he was feeling. The grief she felt for the lost young man could be crippling and it was only by using illusions when performing her queenly duties alongside Odin that she could conceal her heartache and the resentment she felt against her husband for forbidding her to be with and comfort her adopted son. It was one of the reasons she didn't project there every day, not even every week, but there was also the fact that she couldn't bear to see him so defeated, so lost and angry, arguing with her at every turn and blaming her for things she already felt guilty about even though she had no choice in the matter when they were happening. But on this day Odin was on Alfheim and so far, unusually, nobody has asked for audience with her in the morning. She could use the free time to visit Loki.

Putting up some magic wards to warn her of someone approaching her rooms, she turned to the small platform she used for the staging of her projections and sighed, mentally preparing and strengthening herself for what she was about to experience next. When the spell was done, she was as if standing quietly with clasped hands by the prison cell's forcefield, but inside, yet still felt almost like looking in. She was not surpised to see Loki lying on his cot on his back, with his hands placed casually over his stomach. He was motionless, staring without blinking at the white, unchanging ceiling. Shaking her uneasiness over the worrying sight, the queen took comfort in the fact the books were not stacked up untouched in the corner, but some were strewn about the room, opened at various pages. Like one was by the bed, another one on Loki's chest turned down, one at his feet. They were clearly in use.

The breakfast that Frigga personally made sure was comprised of the finest gathered honey, blend of butter, freshly baked bread and revitalizing tonic, lay untouched however. It was only occasionally that the crowned head could see to changing the convict's rationed, coarse and unsanitary staple to something more fitting for a prince, so the allmother was somewhat upset and weary that Loki had not given the food any consideration. By the looks of it, he was even thinner than last she'd seen him a couple of weeks ago and the unsettling, throbbing light of the forcefield didn't do his sallow, anaemic complexion any favours. Yet it was almost like a pity to address him. He seemed relatively at peace for the moment, while whenever they talked they ended up disagreeing, with Loki riled up and shaking with emotion. But if there was anything at all she could do to help him, she needed to know. "Loki.." She breathed, her voice a mix of affection and sympathy.

"My queen." He answered back on an even tone, without turning, as if he had been aware that the whole time she had been standing there.

Frigga shook her head, but decided to disregard the form of address for now. No more repeat spats needed. "I am sorry I could not come earlier my darling. Your…Odin has caught on I'm afraid. I will need to be more careful in the future."

"You know he's wrong, but you're not daring to defy him?" Loki piped up mockingly.

"I have defied and fought you…Odin in many matters over the centuries, some of state importance, some trivial. I have especially disputed his various plans and decision to do with his sons and I have successfully swayed his mind about a good number of such issues. These actions however, almost always required a lot of time. He will not permanently stop me from seeing my child, but for just now, I need not anger him so he can mellow on his own. In the meantime, if you would like some different writing instruments to finally start that journal, any genre of books that would interest you, a potion to ease your mind.."

"Offering a magazine or something, hm?" The once king mused, "not unlike Fury."

"What?" Frigga looked at him confused.

"None of these little offerings make any difference to the injustice Odin deals."

"What would you have him do with you? There were innocent people, Jotun and Midgardian perishing at your hands. Not even I could, would or advise anyone to ignore such a thing," Frigga had to defend the truth.

"When will Odin also put himself in a cell down here for the same crimes?" Loki arose to lean on an elbow, looking his visitor in the eyes for the first time since her arrival, "disguise such behaviour under the pretext of diplomacy and war and all of a sudden it's all noble and respectable!"

"There is a fine line between advisability and cruelty, that is true," Frigga appeased him, "and my husband is experienced enough to walk it precisely on the right side of the edge. Knowledge that we were sure you held much conceivably than your brother."

"Not my brother," Loki retaliated immediately when the queen forgot for a moment he did not like those forms of addresses that reminded him he wasn't born into the family.

"Thor had to learn fast and I am sure you will too," Frigga sighed.

"What for? I'm to rot in here till the day I die."

"No," Frigga disputed, "not if I can help it. Perhaps it will take a long time, but I will change Odin's mind, I promise you that. Now if you could just let me help you in the meantime? Eat a little, keep your strength up. Or the very least, occupy your mind. I am afraid you will go mad in here idle if you don't," she took the tray from the table and took a few steps with it towards the bed. "Sit up my child, let me show you what a great year it was for honey collecting from the multitude and variety in flowers around the whole of Asgard."

"I'm supposed to occupy my mind with flowers?" Loki gave her a disapproving stare.

"It will have to be the little pleasures of life for just now," Frigga pleaded with him, hesitating. For the look Loki gave her, the breakfast was soon to end up all over the floor.

"Pleasure yourself elsewhere," the prince lay back onto the cot, resuming his staring up at the ceiling and ignoring her.

"I am here if you need me, remember that." The allmother set the tray back where it came from, resigned. Arguing with him wasn't doing any good, he was pushing her away and forcing the issue was upsetting both of them. "If there's anything you need or you would like to talk to me, you can trust some of the guards to relay the message. Edrionrofn, Ainnirveid and Mjiolsvall will be kind enough, I have made sure of that. The prison chief also."

"Pity is not an emotion I am intending to exploit." Loki answered gruffly.

"I love you," Frigga sighed, frowning regretfully before withdrawing her projection.

At her exit, Loki allowed himself a wince and turned to his side, curling up. Not showing weakness was getting increasingly difficult with his rising nausea. His stomach was cramping exceedingly painfully and he knew he was moments away from throwing up, even though it will not bring any relief.

Tbc


	2. Record

Chapter 2: Record

"Forgive my interruption Allfather, but the chief curator of the dungeons in requesting unscheduled audience. He says it's an urgent matter." One of the guards standing by the door reported. Frigga's head snapped up, her seiðr immediately letting go of the projection of the plans for the new Alfheim school of dance she had been asked to oversee the building of. Not that Odin was paying much attention to her architectural designs anyway. At his morose nod as clearance, the guard opened the door to let a hasty warden in.

"I apologise for the intrusion, Sire," the curator knelt, "we weren't sure how to proceed without your counsel, your Majesty."

"What is it then?" Odin snapped.

"We are not entirely certain, but we have cause to believe that your son is very ill. We would get a healer in for him, but he's supposed to stay solitary and we are also afraid he might be tricking us with illusions of his illness. But there's no other way we could tell other than letting a healer decide."

"His confinement was constructed to restrict his magic to nothing but basic uses, was it not?" Odin pursued.

"It is Loki. He might've developed some new skills," the custodian argued.

"I could tell if he did!" Frigga stood, eager to be allowed to see her son for once. Especially if he was indeed unwell. "To a great extent, I can identify the signature of his magic. If not, my preparation as a healer should make do at any case."

"An commonplace healer will do," Odin waved her off, "we aren't gratifying trickery with the chance of him seeing you."

"If it is trickery, he will try to harm the healer or guard entering. He will not harm me. I shall see him," Frigga stepped down the stairs, not waiting for Odin to disagree with her. If he was going to stop her, he would have to do so using physical force and even then, she would be unwilling and potentially disobedient. The allfather was wiser than chancing such a power struggle in front of his subjects. "How is Loki? What happened?" She followed the guard trusted with overseeing the prison.

"We weren't allowed to check, but we think the prince could be unconscious. He hasn't been able to keep anything down for the last week and he stopped trying a few days ago."

"Why haven't I been informed of this!" She scolded, horrified.

"He is normally very unresponsive to any kind of verbal approach, so we didn't realise he was in a more dire condition till he started seizing while throwing up bile. But he has calmed," Folkvar, the chief guard added hastily.

Frigga waved indignantly, "send for Fresno and Lifa." She asked for two trusted healers as she never intended to attend to Loki alone. The Allmother rushed ahead, covering the remaining distance within a couple of minutes. In person, she has never been to the cell, but she knew the way. "Screen down," she shouted at the guard on duty in the same hurried manner and didn't stop till she was kneeling by the cot Loki lay limply on, his head slightly off the mattress as it would've been when he threw up. The green tinge of his skin and his sweaty, messy hair alarmed her before touching him, but when she felt his cheek and forehead and his raised temperature, she knew that her instincts were not wrong, that Loki indeed was very sick. "Darling," she tried to wake him by gently shaking him. "Get ice," she ordered the guard, but didn't wait for it. As much as her magic allowed, she made her hands as cold as possible and placed them on his chest, and respectively, his forehead, which is how she would wait for either the healers or the ice to arrive, whichever came first. "I asked if you needed anything," she sighed, clearly aware now that during her visit just two days before, Loki must've already been seriously ill.

There was no response as such, but the prince soon started shaking and moaning weakly in a way she heard only for her close distance. His legs jerked up, towards his abdomen, curling over it, making it clear for Frigga where he was hurting. Motivated by the idea that the cold would possibly help him there, the queen lifted Loki's shirt off his stomach and placed her cool palms there instead. The evidence of cramping and churning was immediately obvious, so she sent a wave of magic to soothe the pain. Loki relaxed, but only for a few moments till his stomach cramped up again, spasms strong and evident under her fingertips. Another wave of magic was needed, stronger this time and yet it didn't alleviate the constricting bowels for very long.

Frigga rubbed round the bellybutton, hoping a physical massage in addition to the pulses of magic Loki was unable to help himself with due to the restricting prison forcefield, would aid her efforts, but the patient whimpered instead, stomach becoming rock hard at the touch, its seizing travelling down to jerking legs and halting breaths. The vanir panicked at seeing a beloved family member in such pain and quickly removed her hands. "Help him, he's in agony," she breathed, tears in her eyes as Lifa, the first of the healers called for, arrived. "His stomach, I think."

The young looking, but experienced healer nodded solemnly, already sensing the feel of is asthenic and ebbing aura. Having witnessed the previous dealings, she didn't touch Loki when she placed her hand over his midsection and channelled a more convergent healing magic than that of Frigga's to give the patient some temporary retrieve while she searched for the cause of his illness in his lifeforce. Frigga could see him slump, some of the tension leaving him, but it didn't make her relax. It was hard to determine which sight was more disturbing, him in that amount of pain, or influenced by someone's magic to that extent, like a marionette, unable to use his own. She squeezed her own fingers in distress while Lifa examined him.

"We need to get him to the healing rooms," the expert established, "he is too far gone for potions and healing stones to be sufficient."

Frigga shook her head, exasperated and instinctively reached for Loki's limp hand as if she could protect him that way, "Odin will not allow that."

"Then if I may, I propose you try convincing the Allfather if he does not want a death sentence dealt," the healer searched her bag for available medicament, "the strangulation of his magic, not even allowing his own healing to function, is killing him."

tbc


	3. Mendicancy

Chapter 3: Mendicancy

The sensation coming from his stomach area was disorienteeringly pleasant. He would've been surprised if it as much as hurt less than before, but pleasant was decidedly unexpected. Loki basked in the sense impression for a while, half conscious, keeping off from rationalising it. But with the feel of well-being, lucidity slowly starting to return too and he realised that the pleasant sensation originated from a pair of hands, sometimes two pairs, placed on his bare abdomen, casting ceaseless spells to soothe his pain. He was relatively sure that once the hands were gone, he would feel discomfort again. Still not completely cognisant, came his seiðr's reflex reaction to remedy the situation and with it, his magic healing his inflamed insides. And the fact that he could use his abilities for some reason, made him instantly alert and awake, agaze into his mother's apprehensive eyes, with the décor of the healing rooms clearly recognisable behind her, delicate hands set on his stomach still.

"Stay quiescent, my dear," she instructed with a sad smile.

"I don't need assistance," Loki stared pointedly at her hands.

"I know darling. But the moment you are able to use magic like that, you were supposed to be taken back to the dungeons, forthwith."

"I see," Loki sneered, "Odin has devised a special way to torture."

Frigga started, wishing she could differ. But fact was that being in that chamber below made the mage ill and he was only granted as much respite as it would allow him to mend enough to make it possible to incarcerate him again. Potentially, it could be an endless circle of him getting better just to get sick all over again. "You're not well enough yet," she finally conceded, "nobody has to know what you have done a minute ago. Restore your ailment half way and we will play on it for as long as possible."

"And how long could that be?" Loki scoffed, but complied with a wince as he let previous cramps rip through his stomach, "I don't see how either of these options could equal a win situation."

"I'm on your side and always will be. Your condition would deteriorate into a lot worse in a few days if we would let you being taken," Frigga reasoned, "now play the part, Igrun is coming to check on you," she managed to whisper before the healers' overseer reached them. The queen turned to nod at the royal healer, Odin's most trusted. "Loki is awakened."

"How are you feeling, my prince?" A reserved Igrun gave him his dues, but no real warmth.

"A little better than you wish me to," Loki gave his best to ignore her telepathic, investigative powers poking his chest and stomach. While the practice of medicine wasn't the most skilled part of his sorcery, he understood the mechanics of bringing up the illusion of his insides floating above him. It was also not hard to detect the abnormalities on the image, imbalances that were bound to make him and his magic weak, with crude unbalances and a distinct inflammation to his digestive system.

Igrun quickly dissolved the image with a wave and turned to her potion locker, "drink this," she handed him a small bottle with yellow liquid inside, "we need to settle your stomach and then you're ready to go."

"Ready to go where!" Frigga asked horrified, although she knew the answer. She glanced anxiously towards the door where the guards were waiting.

"If the prince can keep the medicine down, he is fit to serve his sentence," the healer nodded in the direction of the vial, urging Loki to follow through.

"He should rest before submitting his body to further hardship," Frigga announced with her chin up and her best authoritative voice.

"I will be back shortly," Igrun gave and retreated, although they all knew the time granted for them wasn't long. The guards would force the medicine down his throat if he didn't take it willingly.

Frigga reached out to get hold of Loki's hand again, lowering her head apologetically, barely able to keep back her tears, "I can't believe this," she shook her head.

"Odin's true colours?" Loki raised his eyebrows knowingly.

"I'm so sorry Loki, I'm sure he will see sense when your condition deteriorates again quickly."

"Dream on, woman," the fallen prince rolled his eyes, but didn't retract his hand from hers. Implications of genetics he did not want to think about. For the few moments they were allowed, he just wanted to enjoy her warmth and closeness he would normally associate with safety and affection.

"Loki, I promise you, I cannot watch you being made to suffer like this. I will change your situation, whatever it takes."

"Do not make promises you cannot keep," the once king looked at her dejectedly, "I'd rather have the wretched truth than any more falsehoods.

"You need to believe there's good in the world, that not everyone discounts and despises you. Have you forgotten what, who and how I am?"

Loki shook his head, "you don't want to end up on the wrong side of Odin. You don't know what he'll do with you."

"Have faith my darling," Frigga frowned at the approaching Igrun. "Please. You don't know how much I need you to," she squeezed his fingers.

Tbc


	4. Cavity

Chapter 4: Cavity

Frigga sighed a breath of relief seeing Loki sitting in the chair by the table, writing something. Now she was openly disregarding her husband's orders not to project into Loki's cell as everyday since the trickster was brought back to the dungeons she had to know if and how much he was alright. "A letter?" She enquired, rounding the table to see what he was working on.

"Spells," Loki scribbled on fervently without looking up. "There has to be a way of converting seiðr into simple equations even a few savvy mortals can use."

"I thought you didn't like Midgardians," Frigga questioned.

"I don't. But if Thanos is coming, they need to know how to fight for the sake of everyone there or any realm. I wanted to ask you if there was a way of getting Thor to give my computations to Tinman. I will write as much as I can while I'm still able."

"How bad is it just now?" The queen asked alarmed, noting now that she was close enough that Loki's other hand was wound round his stomach under the table. "And you will tell me the truth seeing as you value it so much."

"Cramping bad," Loki continued his work as if making off hand predictions about the weather.

"I could ease it a little for you," Frigga suggested the use of her healing powers, "I will come back in the flesh, give me a few minutes."

"Are you sure you can?" The convict nodded in the guards' direction, only a small number of yards away, "I doubt they would let you. Besides, do I really want that? Unless my situation is severe enough, I'm not permitted outside these forcefields. Either way, I'm doomed." Frigga withdrew a little, at a loss. Loki was right and nothing he could say or do, could change the situation.

"But if it makes you feel better," Loki glanced up at her, "you could try."

"I will bring potions and healers as well," Frigga perked up, animated, "we can delay you feeling worse and hurting, you'll see."

"I do not want anyone else to come," the detainee asserted firmly, "anything else, whatever," he waved offhandedly. He really didn't see the point of doing much. Odin's torture was well devised and nicely covert-he would get sick repeatedly and progressively no matter what was done and would not escape the stomach cramps for more than minutes at any time. But he did want to make progress with his work, so a little delay would be welcome.

"As you wish, darling," Frigga hurried to fulfil his wish.

Tbc


	5. Rotation

Chapter 5: Rotation

"You would think you'd get tired of massaging my stomach," Loki commented casually, as if he wouldn't have been having a hard time schooling his reactions to the severe pain his whole abdomen was in.

"It seems to help," Frigga warranted.

"It must be rather boring by now," her patient rationalised. It was the fifth or sixth time he had landed in the healing rooms, having been through the whole cycle of getting better just to get worse, they've nearly lost count. "Not to mention time consuming. Had Allfather not complained about your absence from the throne rooms yet?"

Frigga's hand stilled and she looked at him seriously, "are you strong enough to shield from Heimdall?"

"It doesn't require much effort," Loki assured her, giving her a nod to let her know he had done so.

"I have went through every strategy in my store to convince Odin to stop this harsh punishment, but he is not yielding. Although my belongings are still in his chambers as I am trying to keep up pretences, as of from ten days ago, I do not consider myself his wife and queen. He can't do this to my baby and get away with it."

Loki sat up, roused, disregarding the strain that put on his wearied abdominal muscles and grabbed hold of her hands, "no, you can't do that, putting yourself in danger on my account. His wrath might not know bounds. I am not your baby, remember?"

"I am not insane, Loki," Frigga assured him, "Odin does not know of my decision yet. For the moment, I will have to behave as if I was still his wife, at least at night when I am with him. This conclusion had been a long time coming as we have not seen eye to eye on a number of issues and no matter how many centuries, some of the Asgardian rule I will never get used to. He repulses me with his disrespect of other races, vocations, women.."

The prince closed his eyes, not wanting to think the implications through because people don't tend to think about what their fosterparents do in their bedrooms, but at the same time, his concern for her was not letting the issue go, "has he ever hurt you?" He breathed, voice soft and affectionate, rather than angry for the time being.

"Oh, nothing I can't handle," Frigga tried to waved him off, laughing.

"Why do you protect him if you say he disgusts you?" Loki protested.

"I don't, not anymore. But his overbearing nature in the privacy of our bedroom is not his most aberrant sin. What he's doing to you, is. Which is why we're leaving."

"You plan on springing me from prison, alright," he nodded, "but you leaving Asgard without a queen? Are you sure about this?"

"Loki, this is you helping me just as much as I am helping you as the only place I could disappear to is where you could shield me from Heimdall's eyes. Are you able to do that?"

"If you need to leave," Loki settled, realising the inferences. If his mother wanted away from Odin, the king was more insufferable than he had thought. "Then you shall. Is there a plan?"

"Yes, there's a plan," Frigga glaced around, making sure none of the healers were closer than before, "you don't need to worry about that. All I need you to do is get as strong as possible. We will flee while you're escorted back to prison, when you feel your best, but with the least amount of people around. Keep pretending you're feeling worse than you are and start shielding us from view once we reach the passageway leading to the stairs to the dungeons. Now lie back, they'll think you've recovered too fast and I want you to be better."

"No matter what I do, they'll throw me back downstairs in a matter of hours. Do you not need to pack? Are you certain this is the best moment? We could wait till my next stint in the healing rooms."

"No," Frigga shook her head vehemently, "no more suffering, no more! I catch watch you hurt anymore. I love you too much for that."

Loki closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He couldn't reciprocate the words spoken It felt good Frigga cared so deeply. She wasn't his mother, but at the moment, he could not determine what he should consider her to be. Friend, no, she was more than a friend. There was a connection between them, reciprocal care, love and regard, even if he couldn't openly acknowledge it. "Thank you," he finally settled on saying before concentrating on his task. He had to organise his energy reserves differently this time, not weaken it so much with healing. He'd rather be in pain, than risk the operation's success.

Tbc


End file.
